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Lean in, turn it up

The girls and I piled into the front seat of my suburban a few days ago as we pulled across the farmyard to park in the garage. But instead of taking a direct route, with Britta perched on my lap, Nell on the console and Noah riding shotgun, I decided to oh-so-slowly cruise a quarter-mile down our country road.

My choice broke every modern mommy safety rule. But sometimes, you've just gotta break the rules.

I'm so glad I did.

We scouted our alfalfa field. Looked over the neighbor's cattle. Rolled the windows down. And Nell leaned in to turn up the radio...

Out of gas, just my luckFour bald tires on my pickup truckNo more credit, on my credit card

The lyrics take me backto a day I was the little girl ridin' in my daddy's pickup truck.

When I come home and hit that doorI remember what these aching arms are forShe's my one light when the world goes dark

My dad leaned in to turn it up and sing along. No doubt we'd been working, but he always had a way to work in a little fun.

Tomorrow it's the same old grindBut she'll be burning in my mind

Our move to this little farm has washed me over with memories. Driving
the dirt roads, tromping through the creek, cleaning out a barn; it all
takes me back.

She keeps the home fires burningWhile I'm out earning a living in a worldThat's known for its pouring rain

And it's made me realize that a farm isn't just a place I grew up; it's part of who I am. These dirt roads and open spaces and cows and barns and field; they connect me to the hard-working farm men and women who make up my family's history. And they keep me in constant Thanksgiving to our Creator.

She keeps the home fires burningOoh, and it's her warm lovingThat keeps me returning again